Goddess Bless You From Death

Case File 2.

Singha stood in the observation room, his sharp eyes fixed on the pale young man in the interrogation room. The door to the observation room opened, and Lieutenant Khem walked in, handing over the case report to his superior, who continued to scrutinise the young man with his eyes.

"He answered all the questions the same way, Inspector."

"Did we find somebody else in the area?"

"No, sir. The officer who monitored the scene from the beginning didn't find anyone either." Lieutenant Khem glanced at the young man in the interrogation room and sighed. "I don't know, Inspector. This kid doesn't seem like a murderer at all. It's not just his innocent-looking face, but also his consistent testimony, with no suspicious signs. Plus, the fact that he had to take a taxi to the crime scene-there's no way he could have transported all the bodies like that, right?"

Singha didn't respond, engrossed in reading the case report. Just then, the door to the observation room opened again, and Sergeant Prom, a recently transferred officer, entered.

“Inspector, here's the information on the taxi driver. We've issued a summons for questioning."

"Alright."

"Also, Dr Sei has returned"

"And the victims' bodies?"

"They've been delivered as well."

"Good." Singha returned to the interrogation room, causing Thup to sit up straight, tense and alert.

"Get up."

"W-Where are we going?"

"Back to your cell. This room needs to be used."

"Can I stay somewhere else? Any other cell, a storage room, anything but that cell, please," the young man pleaded anxiously.

"Why can't you go back to that cell?"

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you. Would you?" Singha pressed his tongue against his cheek to ease his discontent.

"Inspector, Dr Sei is calling for you," Lieutenant Kem said as he opened the door to inform his superior.

"Alright, I'm coming," Singha replied, grabbing Thup by the collar and dragging him out, ignoring the boy's near-tearful state. "Sergeant, is there another room available?"

"Only the cell at the very end can hold a suspect. The others, if not occupied, are still not ready."

"That's it?"

"Yes, sir." Singha dragged the young man up to the station's upper floor. Despite the short stride distance, Thup struggled to keep up with the officer.

"O-officer, I-I can't keep up." Thup gasped. His shirt collar was pulled tight, making it difficult for him to breathe. Yet, the officer in front showed no signs of slowing down.

Upon reaching the front of an office marked clearly with the sign indicating the inspector's position, Thup pursed his lips. The door opened at the same moment Singha pushed the young man inside, then he walked over to retrieve a key from the desk drawer. This room had only one entrance, making it a temporary but secure holding place, at least until the investigation was complete. Thup chose to sit modestly on a long black sofa, casting wary glances around the room.

"If you cause any trouble again, you'll be back in your original cell."

"T-Thank you," Thup replied. The phone in Singha's jeans pocket started ringing incessantly, prompting him to answer it. Yet his gaze remained locked on the young man.

"What's up?"

[Where are you?]

"Upstairs."

[Come down, my friend. I have something to show you.]

"Then wait," Singha ended the call abruptly and opened the small fridge in the room, tossing a bottle of water to Thup. 

"Stay here and don't cause any trouble."

"Thank you, Inspector Singha."

The person being addressed glanced up briefly before walking out, making sure to lock the door from the outside. He walked downstairs and entered the forensics department. The sounds from the autopsy room didn't make Singha feel uneasy or scared. Inside, he saw his friend, a young man with red hair contrasting with the white lab coat he was wearing, moving between three autopsy tables and four open morgue drawers behind him.

"What have you found?"

"Come over and put on gloves."

Singha took a pair of gloves from the nearby box and then walked over to stand next to his friend.

"The seven victims' bodies show no physical similarities. This one is an eighteen-year-old male, that one a forty-three-year-old male, and that one a fourteen-year-old female," Sei pointed at the bodies on the tables in sequence before turning to the morgue drawers behind him.

"This one is a fifteen-year-old male, that one a thirty-year-old transgender, that one a nineteen-year-old male, and the last one a fifteen-year-old female."

Singha examined each victim's body, paying particular attention to the young girls' bodies. 

“A victim profile like this is going to be a tough case, Sing."

"It's still possible there's a connection. We'll know more once we get detailed backgrounds on each of them."

"Yeah, let's hope so," Sei said, returning to the first body. "All the victims were treated the same way: both of their eyes were sewn shut with red thread, and their lips were stitched together in a crisscross pattern, completely sealed. Look at this. The victims' necks show ligature marks from a rope, but there are some other, deeper marks."

"Wire?" Singha bent down to observe the neck of the deceased. Besides the bruise from the rope, there were deeper, finer cuts that the rope couldn't have made.

"I'm not sure, but I think so. The wounds appear to be the cause of death, likely due to suffocation from strangulation. The victim probably didn't have time to react. They were forcefully strangled from behind with something like a wire. The more they struggled, the tighter it got, cutting deeper into the flesh. I suspect the killer is either a teenager or an adult, possibly over one hundred and eighty centimetres tall."

"Was there anything else at the crime scene?"

"Nothing suspicious, but you should take another look at the photos. There are two sets of footprints-one belongs to our officer and the other to the suspect."

"That kid's height is also over one-eighty," Singha muttered to himself.

"The stitching around the victim's eyes and mouth likely wasn't to prevent them from making noise or escaping, but rather a result of emotional repression or psychological disorders, intended to torture the victims."

"Check the ligature marks on the neck and the thread to see if there's anything else. Also, if the victims struggled while being strangled, there might be the murderer's DNA under their fingernails."

"Alright, I'll take care of it."

"If there's anything else, let me know. And I'll need the autopsy results as well."

"Sure thing." Then, they each went their separate ways to carry out their tasks.

Singha returned to the interrogation room after receiving a message that the taxi driver was waiting to give his statement. However, the young officer suddenly stopped in his tracks and redirected towards his office. Instead, Thup, sitting in the office of the highest-ranking officer at the station, glanced left and right before leaning weakly back on the sofa.

His gaze drifted towards the white ceiling as he sighed. If he hadn't lost the amulet that Luang Pu had given him, he might not have dreamt about that and seen all of this again.

"What should I do?" Thup muttered to himself softly. But just then, he felt a dark shadow pass by the frosted glass on the door. The calmness he had regained was shaken once more. The young man consoled himself, thinking he might be overthinking or just exhausted from skipping meals and from hours of sleeplessness. 

His beautiful eyes stared at the frosted glass without blinking until the shadow of a woman became clearer outside. Thup returned to his knee-hugging position, lowering his head once more. If he didn't raise his head to look at her, he wouldn't see those terrifying things again. But the sound of the turning doorknob made his heart sink to his feet.

"Don't haunt me, please. Don't haunt me."

"Will I ever see you acting normal?" The familiar voice made Thup raise his head immediately.

"Inspector!"

"Do you remember the face of the taxi driver?"

"Yes, sir." When Singha got the answer he wanted, he unlocked the handcuffs.

"What are you looking at?" the young officer asked, noticing the kid in front of him continue to stare at the door.

"Nothing, sir."

"Get up and follow me."

"Where are we going, Inspector? You're not taking me to that cell, are you?!"

"What if I say yes?" Singha asked annoyingly. Seeing that the young man didn't want to follow, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Just come along."

As they were about to enter the interrogation room, Thup suddenly stopped and turned to look down the hallway leading to the forensic department. He saw a girl standing at the end, crying bitterly. Instead of clear tears rolling down her cheeks, they were drops of blood, staining her cheeks crimson red.

"The girl..."

"What's up?"

"I saw a girl standing over there," Singha looked toward the direction indicated by the porcelain finger, but he only found emptiness.

"Describe her."

"She was still very young, with long black hair reaching to the middle of her back. She wore a yellow T-shirt and denim dungarees..." Singha frowned, then he grabbed Thup by the collar and forced him to follow, just as he had that time. She said the same thing back then.

Thinking about it, Singha pushed his tongue against his cheek to release some of his irritation. No matter what, this kid was at the crime scene and must have seen the victim's body. He couldn't let nonsense cloud his judgment. They both arrived at the observation room. The interrogation was about to begin, with Singha having to observe both the taxi driver and the suspect beside him.

"Is this the one?" Singha asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Name?"

"His name is Danai."

"What colour was the taxi?"

"Pink, sir." Singha nodded, then looked into the interrogation room where the session was about to begin.

"Hello, Mr Danai. It must have been quite a shock when you received the summons, right?"

"Just a little, sir."

"Shall we start right away, or would you like to drink something first?"

"No... no, let's start, sir."

"Alright, let's begin. We invited you here to ask about a passenger who took your taxi last night."

"I'm not sure if I can remember."

"Just tell us what you can recall. You drive a pink Toyota taxi, license plate GN487, correct?"

"Correct."

"Your name is Danai, right?"

"Correct."

"Between early evening and midnight, a male passenger, between twenty-five and thirty years old, hailed your taxi from the front of the XXX condo to be taken to a forest outside the city. Do you remember?"

"I remember, yes, that boy.." The taxi driver paused, then nodded rapidly and replied.

"Can you remember what he was wearing?"

"If I recall correctly, he was wearing a white T-shirt and a grey jacket. I'm not sure about his pants, but he was tall, fair-skinned, and good-looking."

Thup looked down at himself, then turned to Singha with a glint in his eye because the taxi driver described his appearance accurately.

"Can you tell us about his demeanour before getting into the taxi, while he was in the taxi, and when he reached his destination?"

"When he hailed my taxi, he seemed very anxious. We didn't talk much during the ride, but I asked him why he was going to the forest in the middle of the night. He replied that he thought something terrible might happen."

"And then what happened?"

"The road was deserted, and the surroundings were quiet, so I played some music. We didn't talk much. After a while, he suddenly told me to stop the car. After paying, he told me to wait, then he walked into the forest."

"Did he carry anything or have anyone with him?"

"It looked like he went in empty-handed and alone, but..."

"But what?"

"But some of my fellow taxi drivers have told me that people often see ghosts in that area. I'm afraid of ghosts myself. I stopped only briefly before I felt so eerie that I drove away."

"Where did you go after that?"

"I parked at a shop about two kilometres away because I wasn't sure if I should wait for him."

"About those stories, can you tell us what they are about?"

"The locals say people often see an old woman or a young woman standing in the forest by the roadside. She wears a traditional blue tank top and a green floral sarong, walking with a lantern in her hand. They say if someone drives by when they're drowsy, they'll see her cross in front of the car. And if anyone stops to urinate, they often encounter something and end up in accidents. So, no one stops there anymore."

"Is it a ghost?"

"Some say it's a guardian spirit; others say it's a guardian of the forest." The taxi driver recounted excitedly, rubbing his arms.

Singha sighed and looked at the young man standing beside him, who had been staring at him.

"I'm not lying, really," Thup said.

"Haven't asked you yet."

"I don't know how to make you believe me, but I didn't kill anyone. I told you it was a ghost."

"Ghosts don't use wires to kill people or sew their eyes and mouths shut. So, keep your ghost theory to yourself."

This case was not going to be easy after all.